Detective Fiction
by Sini
Summary: Chloe's looking for a new job and comes to visit a member of her family while in Gotham. Chloe/Alfred friendship/family and possibly an inkling of Chloe/Bruce. On hold for the foreseeable future.
1. A Request

**Summary:** Chloe's looking for a new job and comes to visit a member of her family while in Gotham – Alfred, but where does Bruce fit in all of this? Chloe/Alfred friendship and possibly an inkling of Chloe/Bruce.

**A/N:** Just something that popped into my mind in the middle of the night while sleep evaded me. It's not a long story as such, but it divided into chapters nicely, so that's how it'll be despite the shortness of this one. The next one will be up as soon as it's been proofread. Thanks for stopping by :)

**Disclaimer: **Not mine. Never was and I'm pretty sure never will be.

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**Detective Fiction**

**Chapter 1: A Request**

Alfred Pennyworth walked into the office of Bruce Wayne one Wednesday with a silver tray on his hands, balancing a single cup smack in the middle of it.

"Sir," Alfred began, and placed the tray on the right corner of the desk, "I would like to request Friday evening off. The afternoon as well, if possible."

Bruce looked up from his paper, surprised by the unusual request. "What for?"

"A family member is in town, and I wish to spend time with her. It has been quite a while."

"Of course, Alfred. I can manage an evening on my own, you know."

"Certainly sir," Alfred said, a distant smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as he poured Bruce a cup of coffee.

"I am a grown man," Bruce said in his defense.

"I wouldn't doubt you for a second," Alfred said. "Thank you, sir."

"Yes well, I probably won't even be here then, and it'll do you good. Who is she anyway?" Bruce queried, taking a sip of coffee, "If you don't mind my asking."

A brief smile crossed Alfred's face. "You won't remember her – Ms Sullivan has visited the manor briefly a handful of times, but you have been away on business."

"Really?" Bruce said with a huff. "I always knew you weren't cooped up here alone all the time."

"I do endeavour to maintain a life, sir."

Bruce chuckled, the coffee cup obscuring his mouth. "But you didn't answer my question. Who is she? Your family is fairly scarce."

"Ms Sullivan isn't a blood relative per se, but family nonetheless. I was a friend of her father's and have known her since childhood," Alfred said, wiping a spot off the tray with a napkin. "I used to read old detective novels to her all those years ago." He smiled at the memory, and refolded the napkin. "In any case, I wish to see her again, and she is coming this way for the weekend."

Bruce studied his beloved butler with interest. Alfred was positively beaming, and that was saying something. The man rarely requested anything, unless it really mattered, and this time it obviously did.

"You could ask her to stay here if you wanted to," Bruce stated, "I'll be gone most of the time anyway."

"That's very kind of you, sir, but I believe she has already arranged for accommodation."

Bruce placed the empty cup back onto the tray and smiled. "Alright. You just have fun, Alfred."

"Thank you, sir. And should Batman need my help, you know how to reach me, sir."

"I'll do my best not to ruin your plans," Bruce said. "Let's hope Gotham agrees."

Alfred nodded, and prepared to leave. "Oh, and sir," he began right as Bruce was getting up from his chair and reaching for his jacket. "Since the schedule is clear for tomorrow night, I was hoping I could invite Ms Sullivan for some tea. That is, if a vibrant young woman such as herself is free at such a time."

"Of course, Alfred," Bruce said. "Besides, I have that business meeting."

"Yes, sir. I will see you later," Alfred said as they split up in the corridor.


	2. Tea Time

**A/N: **So this settles it. This is completely AU. I trust you'll notice the differences. :) I have another version of this chapter that's darker and more Nolan-like, but I decided to take the other road, it seemed to fit better. I also rewrote the ending of this chapter again and again with varying amounts of information and dialogue, and hopefully picked the right route.

Thanks for all the reviews, I hope you got my replies.

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**Chapter 2****: Tea Time**

Chloe looked at the road signs with a frown. Her memory of where the Wayne Manor was situated was hazy at best. The last time she had visited was a good six or seven years ago, and even then Alfred had picked her up from the train station in the city center. This time she was driving herself and she had to stop at a crossroads to think whether she was supposed to go right or left. She did know that the other one would lead her straight to her destination.

The prospect of seeing Alfred again was doing wonders for her spirits. She had come to Gotham for a job interview at the _Gotham Gazette_. It was her stab at a new start, or a different future. Thoughts of the _Daily Planet_ swerved to her head, but she pushed them back. Now was not the time to dwell.

In less than five minutes Chloe found herself outside the Wayne Manor gates. She opened her window and reached for the buzzer. A moment later, she heard a click from the speaker.

"Good evening, Chloe," she heard Alfred's voice say, and the gates began to open.

"Hello Alfred," she replied, reaching out of the car window. She saw the camera pointing straight at her and gave a little wave.

"You may leave your car in the front if you wish, and I will meet you at the door," he told her.

"OK, I'll see you in a moment."

Chloe let the window roll back up as she drove in, and in no time she was walking towards Alfred, who was waiting by the door.

"My dear Chloe, it's lovely to see you," he said and hugged her.

"It's been too long," Chloe said against the fabric of his suit jacket.

"Come in! I've already got the kettle on."

Chloe happily obliged, and stepped inside with Alfred following her.

"My God, I didn't remember how huge this place is… I was already gaping when I drove up from the gate, but geez… I always forget."

Alfred chuckled. "Yes, it is quite spacious, I admit, but I've grown fond of it over the years," he said, taking her jacket, "But that could be because I don't have to hoover this place."

Chloe laughed and looked around. "It's this way to the kitchen, right?" She was pointing towards the ajar door just as the kettle whistled. "Ha! I was right."

"Yes," Alfred said. "It's just through that small lounge. I'll just hang this up."

Chloe moved to the lounge and let her eyes travel along paintings on the walls. She noted that she remembered some of them. On one wall there were two relatively peaceful paintings, one which she recalled was by Alfred's late mother. It portrayed their home garden. It may not have been the most original of subjects, but the painting was unique, and she sometimes wished there were more places like it. She remembered sitting in the room almost a decade ago, looking at it in awe. She didn't know much about art, but she knew what pleased her eye. In what she would call an eccentric choice of décor, the opposing wall had a fireplace on top of which hung a Hieronymus Bosch –inspired work. Heck, it probably was an original of his. It reminded her of an apocalypse. Funny how the last time she had laid eyes on it she never thought she would see the beginnings of one.

Soon Alfred joined her, and they made their way to the kitchen, and in the same corner by the window as Chloe remembered was a small round table with two mismatched chairs. She made a beeline for it and dropped her bag on the floor next to it.

"I see you found your spot," Alfred said as he brought two cups to the table.

"I could never forget. I've only seen a fraction of this massive building you call a house, but I love this corner along with the library. It's so normal," she said, gesturing at the simple oak table.

"Master Bruce has expressed similar feelings. I always serve him breakfast here, and usually dinner as well. It is a lovely room." Chloe looked surprised. "What is it, my dear?"

"Just weird hearing such things about Mister Wayne. Doesn't sound like the man in the papers at all," she pointed out. "But I always suspected there was more to him for you to stick around for so long."

Alfred let out a hearty laugh. "Master Bruce is, well, Master Bruce. He plays the part, but he is a good man. Perhaps a little misguided at times, but don't tell him I said that."

They shared a smile, and Alfred too sat down. He took a moment to look at the now grown woman in front of him. It seemed like such a short while ago when she had sat on the very chair with a pillow under her to reach the table top better. She had written stories, and gone through an impressive amount of paper while drawing. The writing had won out in the end.

"So how about this job interview? In your last message you told me you are leaving Metropolis. Would I be so lucky as to have you living in the same city as me?"

Alfred and Chloe had kept a steady flow of phone calls, even the occasional post card, between them, and while Chloe had no idea of Alfred's role as Batman's assistant, or Alfred of Chloe's stint as the Watchtower, the everyday things they did know were enough. Although, they both hoped they could divulge their secrets one day. Unfortunately, sometimes it wasn't their secret to tell, other people were involved.

"I think my time in Metropolis is up, and I thought Gotham sounded like a good option. Then there's the _Gotham Gazette_…"

"They could use a reporter like you," Alfred said.

"To bring in an outsider's perspective?"

"And one who is and will always be interested in justice and will not falter."

Chloe almost blushed, but not quite.

"Thanks, Alfred. It's good to know I have you in my corner."

"And you in mine," Alfred reminded her.

"You know, you are the only person who can get me to drink tea, and _like_ it," Chloe said, disrupting the heart-to-heart.

Alfred chuckled and fetched a few scones. "It's all in how you prepare it," he said, "it takes years of practice."

"Pfft. You make it sound like rocket science."

"Well, you are very smart and resourceful, as I'm sure are many of your friends. Yet it is only my tea that you drink."

Chloe was fighting off a grin. It was rare for Alfred to tease people, although she suspected Bruce got his fair share.

"Fine, I give. You're the master of the tea brewers."

"Thank you. It was time my skills were recognised."

"Don't let it go to your head," Chloe said in the most serious voice she could muster, but could not hold off the emerging smirk.

"Never."

They spent the next hour talking and reminiscing until they heard the sound of a car approaching.

"Ah, that will be Master Bruce arriving."

"I should get going," Chloe said.

Alfred bowed to get her bag. "I believe I will see you tomorrow. Shall I come pick you up after your interview at the _Gazette_? We could have a look around some of the places in the city before going to the cinema," Alfred suggested.

"How about I come get you?" Chloe asked, "I've rented the car until Saturday, and I could drive here straight after the interview. Just let me do this for you."

Alfred relented. "Alright then. What time do you think you might be here?"

"Around three o'clock, I'd say. That should leave me plenty of time to get here."

"Then it is settled," Alfred said.

"Let's hope so."

They made their way to the door while Chloe fished for her car keys. Bruce walked in just as they were saying their goodbyes.

"Mister Wayne," Chloe greeted with a nod, and Bruce returned the gesture.

"It was delightful to see you Chloe. Thank you for visiting an old fart like me," Alfred said with a cheerful smile.

"Oh, you're not that old, and anyone would be lucky to have you as a friend. You're the uncle I never had."

They shared a hug, and Chloe kissed Alfred on the cheek. "You're a very lucky man," she said, turning to Bruce.

"Believe me when I tell you, I know," he said. "Ms Sullivan, am I right?"

"Chloe Sullivan," she said, and shook Bruce's hand.

"Bruce Wayne."

Chloe smirked. "Who'd have thunk?"

Bruce looked bewildered and furrowed his brow. Alfred stood behind Chloe looking amused. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I always though you'd be taller."

"I–" He furrowed his brow even further. "What does that have to do with anything?" Alfred contemplated whether he should say something, and opted to stay quiet, and watch the younger generation get acquainted. "And my height is just fine."

"Sorry, but I couldn't help myself," Chloe said. "In the papers you're made out to be this larger than life character. A lame joke, I admit, but it was kind of funny in my head." Bruce looked somewhat amused and Chloe wore an expression that Alfred thought was meant to be appeasing. "Just for the record, you are of a good height and have very nice shoes," Chloe added, nodding at Bruce's feet.

Bruce cracked a smile. "Good to know you approve."

Chloe looked sheepish for a second, but any sign of it was gone in a second. "Yes, well… It was nice to finally meet you, but I have to get going." She gave Alfred one last smile before leaving. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Three o'clock."

"Until then." She turned to leave, but stopped to cast a glance at Bruce. "Those really are some nice shoes." With that Chloe was off, and Bruce shifted his gaze from the closed door to Alfred.

"So," he began, "that's her."

"Yes, sir."

Bruce shifted his weight from foot to foot a couple of times. "She seems…"

Alfred lifted a questioning eyebrow, and Bruce let the sentence drift off. The appropriate adjective was eluding him anyway.

"Is that tea I smell?" he asked instead, effectively abandoning the subject in hand.

"The remnants of it. I'll make some more if you'd like."

"Yes, please." He hung his coat and headed for the kitchen. Upon arriving there, Bruce noticed the cups and crumbs on the table. "Did she sit in my chair?" His eyes were scanning the worn breakfast nook.

"It's her favourite. I'm sure the chair did not mind," Alfred said. Bruce could see the gleam in his eye.

"At least she's got good taste," Bruce said, "as far as chairs and shoes go."

Alfred laughed. He had been right in thinking they would get along.

"And her choice of friends seems impeccable so far."

"Thank you, sir."

"Don't mention it, Alfred," he said with a faint smile as the faint murmur of the engine of Chloe's rental car faded away.


	3. The Decision

I apologise for the delay, but here is the continuation. I have been planning the story that is supposed to follow this, whether I will get it written or not is another matter, but this story could be seen as a kind of prologue to it. Despite the fate of the possible story, here is chapter three. Once again, thank you for reading, and thank you for all the wonderful comments and notes you have sent me, they make me happy :)

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**Chapter 3:**** The Decision**

Chloe and Alfred were on their way to the car after leaving the movie theater. It was a semi-tradition of sorts for them to go see a film when the opportunity presented itself. Usually it was of an old film noir type, and when she was younger one theater repeatedly showed Indiana Jones films which they had therefore seen several times together. She glanced at Alfred beside her, her smile quickly turning into a look of worry.

"Alfred?" she asked. "What's wrong?" His breathing was quickly becoming labored and he held a hand briefly on his chest.

Alfred grunted and they stopped. He leant against a lamppost, eyes closed, his head drooping.

"It's nothing," Alfred said, taking a deep breath. "A little chest pain," he elaborated, trying to sound reassuring. "I'm not getting any younger."

"Should we go to the hospital?"

Chloe was worried. Alfred seemed to be in good shape for a man his age, but he was not a young man anymore and something was definitely wrong. His wore a deep grimace over his features, wincing every so often.

"No, it's alright," Alfred said, his breathing becoming slightly more regular. "I was involved in a minor collision earlier this week, nothing to worry about. I just need to sit for a while," he argued.

They made it to her car and she helped him in, still not convinced he was going to be fine, but Alfred's insistence won out in the end.

When they arrived back at the Manor, Chloe helped Alfred to the living room despite his protests, and then took his outer garments into their rightful places before returning. Alfred was sitting on the couch, the back of his head facing her as she walked into the spacious room.

"I'm fine now, my dear," he assured her.

"No, you're stubborn. I know that because so am I." She pressed a palm slightly against his chest, forcing him to lie down. "Take it easy, and I'll get you something to drink. Tea?"

"Water will be fine." Chloe nodded, and disappeared again.

Alfred sighed. He had had a wonderful day despite the small lapse after the film. They had visited some of the places that held memories for the both of them, even strolling through the park Chloe had loved as a child, and apparently still did. It had all been quite calm, but the day had taken it's toll on Alfred's physique: determination and pain killers only got you so far. The blow he had taken to his chest had left a sizeable bruise and the damage was healing, only slowly.

Chloe returned with a glass of water, and placed it on the coffee table. She grabbed two pillows from the surrounding arm chairs and put them behind Alfred's back.

"Don't want you to choke on that."

"It would make for a lousy ending for this evening," Alfred said as he took a sip from the offered cup.

Chloe sat down on one of the armchairs and bit her lip, elbows resting against her knees. She weighed the options of bringing up her doubts or shutting up, and concluded that she'd had enough. Crossing her arms, she returned her attention to Alfred.

"What happened? I know you weren't in a car accident. Because you look otherwise unscathed, there would be painful bruising from the seatbelt… Yet from where I'm sitting, there isn't any where your seat belt would be," she said, nodding in his direction, "and I know you always wear yours." Alfred glanced down at his shirt, looking at where the actual bruises were, now covered by his clothes. She was right, his arms were fine. "Also, while I helped you in and out of the car, it wasn't your shoulders or ams that hurt – I think we both know that. And finally, I'd like to think you'd have told me about it. So what are you trying to hide?"

A sad smile appeared on Alfred's face. "I am sorry, Chloe, but I can't tell you without putting someone else, or _you_, in danger. Just know that everything is fine now," he said, placing his hand over hers for a moment.

"But that doesn't explain anything."

"I know, and I also know how your mind works, your hunger to uncover secrets, but I cannot tell you, not before I…"

Chloe's ears perked up and her slouched posture straigtened immediately. "Before you what?"

"Nothing," Alfred said with a sigh. "Would you be a dear and get me another glass of water?"

Chloe bit her lip and rose while the room stayed quiet. Words could not describe the urge to ask more questions, but Alfred's request was keeping her at bay, for now at least, but he could rest assured the issue was not over and done with – he could be in danger, and she would love to help him.

In the end, she returned with a full glass with ice cubes and a small sandwich and they spent the next quarter of an hour in near silence, not a completely uncomfortable one, but one where the air was think with unasked questions and non-existent answers. Chloe was going through different scenarios in her head and Alfred was thinking of all the times he had wished he had Chloe to help him when things had gone wrong for Batman. He had heard and read of her involvement with the Justice League on more than one occasion, and wondered how much she knew of them. His own knowledge was limited, but there was a story there, of that he was certain. He wanted to tell Chloe, because in his mind the benefits outweighed the possible cost and danger, because he knew it was something Chloe would thrive on, and because she was capable in every way. Getting Master Bruce to agree to all of it was where the complicated nature of all things Batman grew tenfold. In fairness, Alfred understood his firm line of 'tell no one' well, and 99 percent of the time Alfred agreed wholeheartedly. He was, after all, suffering the effects of keeping Batman's identity a secret, the bruising a very real reminder.

Alfred barely registered Chloe leaving the room, presumably back to the kitchen, as he continued to muse on the possibilities. It was several minutes later that he heard Bruce walk into the room, back from his evening patrol, and ask him what was going on.

In the kitchen, Chloe was quietly muttering to herself, taking her frustration out on the two glasses and one plate, scrubbing them vigorously with the brush. She couldn't figure out what was so important, so worth protecting, that it would put her in danger as well. She was certain it had something to do with the other occupant of the house, but beyond that there wasn't much to go on. There had always been something off with the way things worked in the Manor, little things that reeked of secrecy, but mostly in the past few years. She had thought of them as the eccentricities of the wealthy, not having to stick to the mundane, the way she remembered Lex as being while she was in high school. But if something was going on, she was was already dreading what it might be. Maybe she was not the only one with a secret, and like hers, it might not be anything bad. "It's nothing bad," she whispered to herself. "Yeah, right… not impossible, but unlikely as hell."

Running her forearm over forehead she continued the ruse of scrubbing. If she went back there now, she wouldn't be able to keep her thoughts to herself. It was much easier to shut up in a separate room.

"You don't have to do that." Bruce was leaning against the doorframe, looking casual as he observed her. She guessed he had been out running. Sure, his shirt and trousers looked flawless, and he had obviously showered, but his face was still a little flushed and his hair damp.

"It's to help Alfred," Chloe said simply. "He's not feeling too well."

"Yes, because of the accident."

Looking back down at the sink, she decided to play along for a minute. "Which neither of you cared to mention."

Alfred was very loyal and it was a quality she valued highly, but sometimes it sucked being on the outside. She also knew she was in no place to complain, she was keeping Alfred in the dark as well.

"It wasn't my place to say anything."

Chloe bit her lip for the umpteenth time that night and turned around, the cup and brush in her hand sinking into the water with a splash.

"Oh please, we both know there was no collision," she said straightening her posture. "You might not know me, but I've spent a lot of time under this roof, and whatever it is you're involved in… Alfred won't say anything because he knows you trust him, and I'm sure you already spoke to him, so you know I know something's going on."

She waited for Bruce's response. His stance had changed slightly, the ease was gone.

Bruce wanted to sigh, from what he'd gathered from Alfred, from his previous encounter with her, and a very interesting file on one Chloe Sullivan, he had suspected the worst, that she would stick her nose in. He should have known, but instead he had slipped. They had to make a decision.

Resisting the urge to scowl, he said, "I have to talk with Alfred. Don't go anywhere."

"Wasn't planning on it."

Bruce walked down to the living room with a hundred different questions making a mess in his brain. Should they tell her? Would Alfred want her to know? 'Of course he would,' Bruce reasoned. Would he himself want her to know? Just how trustworthy was she? This time he did sigh. She _was_ trustworthy and that's where more problems started. They could give her an inkling, but she would eventually find out the whole truth. They, he, had screwed up royally this time. He hated it. Alfred would tell him to accept it and look forward. He'd said it many times before, and maybe it was time to do it again. Being Batman had become his life, and holding onto it meant keeping a very tight leash on himself, there was only a minute margin for error, for making the wrong decision, and in his mind it rounded down to a zero. No mistakes, that's what he strived for. Recently, he'd made a mistake, and this is what it had lead up to.

Alfred was about to sit up but Bruce waved his hand at him and took a seat himself. "Alfred‒"

"Sir, I‒I believe our predicament has escalated enough. I can't ask you to divulge your secret‒"

"'S not just mine," Bruce interrupted, "or you wouldn't have gotten hurt."

"‒but if someone is ever to find out, she is the best candidate one could hope for."

Bruce leant back, propping his feet up on the coffee table. "If anyone else finds out, if someone _un_favorable finds out, or even tries to find out, she'll become a target. People around Batman get hurt, it's a fact. Just look what happened to you."

"I know, Bruce, but these people are usually the ones who have no idea with whom they are socialising. What happened to me was bad luck. They probably didn't even know who I was."

The absence of 'Master' didn't go unnoticed, and it was then that Bruce made a decision.

"You know I have to ask you this, Alfred. Are you sure?"

A hint of a smile crossed Alfred's lips as he said, "Yes, I am, and I think it would be a great asset to have her help should we ever need it."

Bruce nodded solemnly. Things around the Manor were about to change.


End file.
